Sensations Of The Worst
by exillion
Summary: Sealed, forgotten and left to rot from the passage of time, ages old relic returns to a world changed dramatically. Naruto/Dresden Files crossover.
1. Chapter 1

_****I had a lot of trial and error into making this chapter. Lots of things changed over and over again, fixed, etc etc I finally posted the first chapter. This is a story featuring Uchiha Itachi in a world completely alien to him. He has to learn to adapt, to learn new cultures and come to a forced conclusion that he may be a little out of his depth. Anyway, enjoy the chapter._

**Chapter 1**

_Uchiha Itachi_

There are things that go bump in the night, terrible and dangerous things that shouldn't have the right to exist in the human world. I dealt with those things, and every time I almost ended up dying for it. I had to do the things I did to save the people worth saving, and coming out alive at the skin of my teeth.

I juggled with my morality, with my life and so many decisions made in the spur of the moment. I could only count myself lucky to be alive after having gone through so much. Having faced vampires, werewolves, dark wizards, ghosts and even a legendary Loup-garou, I made it through alive with desperation and skill only a man near their breaking point can achieve.

Right now, I think I might actually die. Murphy might never see me again, or Michel and his wife and kids. Susan, oh how I wish I listened to her and stayed with her tonight. We would have had a nice dinner and went to bed early at her place. It would have been a better choice than follow up on a lead on some wannabe necromancer and an ancient book he stole from the museum a couple of days ago. The only reason I was even called up was because the guards died an unnatural death, their bodies having aged a hundred years, with their clean uniforms still clinging to their skeletal bodies.

That's how I was first alerted to the dark wizard's activities, and was even hired to find the priceless book by the director of the museum. A little bit of consulting done for Murphy at the crime scene and promising to give her more information when I get it, I was on my way.

The following day later led me directly to the south end of Chicago, up the stairs of an apartment building and onto the roof. And it had to be on a roof of all place. Being a wizard, technology doesn't tend to work as they should. The more sophisticated the technology is, the more likely it is to fall apart just by my presence alone.

The last thing I wanted was to be on an elevator leading me to my death. I already experienced that before, barely coming out alive was a once in a lifetime experience thank you very much. But that doesn't mean I want to walk up thirty flight of stories.

The necromancer himself lay a few feet away; surprisingly I found myself not comforted at all for the lack of a head attached to his shoulders.

The candle sticks snuffed out beside him, paper seals that gave and focused his power was completely destroyed. There were ashes of burning papers everywhere, some still charred with a few crackling flames. The circle itself was disturbed, smudged and whatever that held inside the circle broke free. The symbols themselves drawn around the circle and within it were of eastern origins, and some of it was utterly alien that it couldn't have been made by any humans. He didn't recognize the language belonging to any human civilization he can think of.

The stupid idiot paid the price for his arrogance. And so am I, because I really wish I called up Murphy before raiding the necromancer's place of power.

I could feel the hot breath of the man behind me, his unnatural crimson red eyes staring at mine. From the corner of my eyes, I can make out a tiny frown forming in his face. There was only silent puzzlement underneath those red eyes. Whatever he saw in me, he didn't show it much.

The eyes are the windows to the soul, literally. A wizard has the ability to look into the soul of the person, and when I got pulled into the soul gaze within them, it terrified and confused me.

Just imagine a field, long and desolate as far as the eye can see. Nothing grew on it, not even weeds could be supported with life. And above the sky was coated with blood red, and black clouds stayed still and unmoving. And if you ever had the chance to see blood at night, reflecting off the silver moon, that's what the color of the sun was. And it was bleeding.

The field itself wasn't completely empty, far from it. It was filled to the brim. Dead bodies littered everywhere, from men and women and even children, post mortem setting in long ago. And blood, there were blood everywhere, so much blood he couldn't believe his eyes. They were all deep in them, all the dead bodies half covered in blood and drowning. I could almost choke in the metallic coppery smell of blood.

And there, in the middle of the field the man stood in a small patch of perfectly manicured green grass, lack of any red stains. He stood tall, clothed in an odd bleached white armor, blade held softly in his right and his eyes stared right into mine. His families, friends and enemies were nonexistent to those eyes. Everything about him was cold, calculating and efficient. But there was something else hidden beneath them.

I felt tears on my eyes, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. Behind all the cold blooded killer lay a pure hearted soul, a kind of goodness hidden behind a lifetime of sacrifice.

Forming a soul gaze with a wizard, you get to know the person and vice versa. It is why wizards always avoid any eye contact as much as they can. To know one another so deeply, so profoundly, it can only be called intimate. And it sticks with you like a bad rash, always at the back of your mind.

Now, I've seen sociopaths do their worsts, killing indiscriminately and for the sake of it. I've seen good men corrupted by darkest of magic, using lust and anger to fuel their power. I've even seen good men kill in self defense. I've known a lot of monsters, vampires and demons having lived a long life and spilled the blood of so many innocents.

My stomach quailed; cold fear gripped around my heart like a giant armored gauntlet fist and pounded at it a hundred miles per second. This man was as deadly as they come, and God help any stupid idiot that comes in his way.

Well, other than me. All I needed to do was give him was a good reason to cut my head off. I couldn't use my shield bracelet, and by that time it would be too late. Any spell, any word I might utter to let off a spell would be too late, not with the sword hanging so close to my throat.,,,

But what confused me more than anything else, was that he had a pure soul. It was the kind of soft pure soul that was Michael Carpenter and Murphy. And this man had that same soul. I've never known a man who killed so many, and still retain their soul and sanity. He might not kill me just for the sake of it, only if he had a reason. He knew I knew that, so I might still come off alive.

"Who are you?" The man's voice was soft, but firm, the kind that came with total control over a person's life.

"Harry," I licked my lips nervously, suddenly finding my lips dry. "Harry Dresden"

"Harry Dresden." He said, getting used to the words. He didn't quite get it right, and any closer I could only shudder what wizards would do if they had power over my name.

"You mind getting the blade away from me? I don't particularly want to die at the moment." I said. "I still got things to do, places to see and finish writing my will." Okay, so maybe trying to banter with the man might have been a stupid thing to do, so sue me. I swallowed again, looking at the blade only inches away from my throat.

The man blinked, and then finally nodded before lifting the blade away from me. I let out a breath, scrambling back to pick up my blasting rod and my staff. I finally turned to face him, and I shuddered when those blood red eyes watched me. They were so cold, calculating and efficient, not unlike Marcone.

"Who are you?" I asked. I fought the sudden urge to lift my staff and my blasting rod, but kept it at my side just in case he decided to attack me anyway. I'd be ready for him this time.

"Uchiha Itachi," He said, simply.

Names are a powerful thing. If a wizard ever used your name against you, there can be a whole lot of trouble. It can be dangerous and he's dangerous. I eyed the man properly this time. Itachi wasn't a very tall person. He stood a little above average, five eleven maybe. He wore a simple shirt and pants, and currently shoeless. And despite the lean body, he had a solid frame for a twenty four years. The wiry corded muscle rippled underneath his pale skin as if they were made of steel, but they moved with fluidly of an Olympic gymnast. Itachi was made for efficiency, pure and simple. And despite his fragile looks, and his slender frame, Itachi seemed so much more than that. The way he stood showed grace only a Sidhe can achieve, and the sheer violence he alluded makes a vampire pale in comparison. He can be a little daunting, I realized, especially with that sword he holds.

The near permanent introduction to his blade showed me that. The raven haired man was a monster in a human form, I knew, and with a soul so pure I don't even know what to think. He was no demon or a fairy, just an honest to god human.

"Well, Uchiha," I made a face. I gestured around to the mess. "What happened exactly?"

"Call me Itachi." Itachi's eyes narrowed. "I should be dead."

"You mean he almost killed you?" I looked at the headless corpse on the floor, finding that hard to believe.

"He was no threat." The headless corpse was dismissed as nothing more than a bug, and I tried hard not to twitch.

"What does that mean?" I was cold, hungry and starting to get really frustrated. The only thing I wanted right now is my bed.

When Itachi lifted his blade, my hands instinctively gripped my staff and my blasting rod harder. Already I brought the magic into my will, the words in my mind and ready to be used. The air crackled, my staff glowed a bright blue and I can feel the strength pouring into me and nearly dropped it when I realized what happened. My tense shoulders slackened, relaxing visibly when the man only made a small cut on his hands. Now I just felt silly, feeling my face burn. If this Itachi person noticed, he seemed to have ignored it.

His hand bled red, just as any other human would. He seemed a little surprised he even bled. Heck, I'm still surprised he bled. "I shouldn't be alive. Why I am alive now and existing is a mystery." Itachi lifted his hand, and flexed it over and over again as if he was actually real.

"You killed him?" I nudged to the man to my side, ignoring what he said. The implications behind that statement would mean shit could hit the fan on epically proportional scale.

"Yes." Itachi replied. I didn't bother to tell him to go visit a hospital, he didn't look the type. Itachi was already ripping up a small piece of cloth from his shirt and wrapped around his hands tightly, and tying it up into a tight knot.

"Why?" Okay, stupid question.

"He tried to subvert my will. I merely responded in kind."

I didn't bother asking how the circle was broken from the outside, as he should be powerless on the inside. So either Itachi had help from an outside source before I got here, or his will was stronger than the necromancer. In which case, the circle broke or the mad wizard accidentally disturbed the circle. Either way, I have to deal with the consequences. I eyed the sky above and cursed at the big man upstairs.

Itachi turned his back to me, moving near the ledge to face the hundreds of lit buildings across the city. It was nearing midnight, and very few people were out in this side of the city on a Monday night. And I should be home sleeping for an early morning. And Itachi seemed to have dismissed me. At least, I hope not. I don't like it when I'm ignored by a potential baddie, things don't tend to end well for them. Okay, so I was a little insulted a potential threat like me could be turned away so easily. I took offense to that. So what am I supposed to do now? Inform the White Council? Murphy was going go berserk, but that won't stop her from finding the killer who killed the previous killer. Now I'm starting to get a headache.

"I do not recognize this place." Itachi turned back to me, his eyes never letting go of me. "I may need your help.

-

I kept my eyes on the road and silently cursed under my breath over and over again. I swear this would be the last time I help someone in need.

"Hells Bells, this isn't happening. This is so not happening." I muttered, trying to keep my thoughts steady. Necromancy is one thing, but full on resurrection of a human is impossible. To bring back a life, of the soul's body and spirit that should be long dead shouldn't be possible. He was probably alive the whole time, somehow sealed away or locked in the Nevernever somewhere deep and dark. My early theory was rearing it's ugly head when Itachi asked what a car was. Everyone knew what a car was, hell even the lowest pit of demons to the most traditional old vampire knew what it was. Then he had the gall to insult the old girl, the nerve!

Bob was going to have a field day with trying to figure this puzzle out. If the White Council found out, they're reaction is going to make the Chicago fires look like fire crackers.

I tried not to turn and stare at my companion seated next to me on the passenger seat, he didn't say much. Itachi only kept staring out the window, his eyes coal black. I blinked, surprised. That was weird. I so needed to learn that trick.

"This place is different, bigger."

"Yeah well, welcome to Chicago."

"Chicago?" Itachi said, slowly rolling the words over his mouth. "Is this your village?"

"Village?" I turned back to him, my eyebrows shot up. "No, it's a city. We're in the USA. I'll tell you more about this place when we get home."

He didn't say much after that.

Itachi leaned back, looking out the window again. The buggy was a beat up and rusty old thing, but it still worked. Mike, my car mechanic is a miracle worker to keep this this old girl running. Thank you for small miracles. They sped through the night, a comfortable sort of silence settling in.

When I got home and opened the door, Mister came by and playfully shouldered his way past my feet. I threw the car keys on the table, hung my duster and set aside my staff and my blasting rod to the side. Firing up the fireplace brought warmth into my place, my skin already getting a little bit of its color back from the cold night. Candles were the next best thing to bulbs; they don't fritz out on you.

Apparently I decided to take home a killer, and who just happened to be helpless in a world that changed around him in an instant. He wasn't Mister I took home so many years ago, and neither is he a cat. He was human, and the kind of dangerous player that makes vampires look like the three stooges trying to take out a hit on my Godmother. The image in my head slightly cheered me up.

Wait a go, Harry Dresden.

Mister apparently had taken quite a liking to Itachi. The thirty pound cat purred in delight under Itachi's fingers. I scowled, feeling slightly betrayed. Great! He was the perfect killer that liked cats. Wonderful.

I sighed, taking the seat opposite of him. "What do you remember before you were…?" I gestured to the mess we left behind on the roof top.

Itachi looked up, his eyes looked away from Mister and we made eye contact. There was no need to fear of another soul gaze; we already looked into one another and we knew each other pretty damn well, which is a lot. I tried not to shudder, the image still planted in my mind.

"I died." He smiled. I thought I might have imagined it; it was gone the next second. "However I feel weak, like I've been cut in half."

"But what do you remember before you died?"

Itachi thought it over, cocking his head to the side. "I don't remember much, only I should not exist."

"I'm going to try and feel you with my magic, if it's okay with you."

He cocked his head to the side in question, but nodded.

I willed my magic, extending my senses towards Itachi. So it was true, he is well and truly human. There wasn't any sign of possession, at least. That was a good sign. There was something oddly different about him nevertheless. There was a difference between perfectly ordinary human and wizard that defines them and the man sitting opposite of me was both. Neither, maybe, more or less. I don't know, this is all getting confusing my the minute. He doesn't have an ounce of magic, at least. So why would the necromancer have the trouble of summoning him? I can still feel the red outline on my neck, reminding me exactly how dangerous he can be.

"You have found something then?"

I pulled away the magic, feeling a little light headed.

"No. You're not dead, you're still alive." I said, "You must've been alive the whole time, you just didn't know it, maybe."

"Not possible." He replied, not in the lead worried. I got annoyed, wondering why I brought him home in the first place. Itachi can't be human. Hell, fairies show more emotion than Itachi does. And they don't even have a soul. I wonder what would happen if he were to meet my Godmother.

"Is this you?" I picked up a small hand held mirror on the table side near me and held it up to face Itachi.

"Yes"

"Then you didn't die." I put the mirror away, missing the narrowed eyes aimed at me. If he thinks he should be dead, that's fine by me. The sooner the morning comes, the sooner he can leave. Maybe I can set him up with some fake IDs and other paraphernalia for being a US citizen. I may not have the resources, but Marcone does and he still owes me. I thought better of it then. The last thing the mob boss needs is another killer.

I thought back to the theory that he might actually have died. Is there truly a way to completely and fully resurrect the dead? No, not a chance. To bring back a person so completely alive and wholly intact, with their flesh and bone to the exact replica of what they once were before dying, goes against the very laws of nature. Hell, just making zombies is against our laws.

"So I'm normal, alive, then?" Itachi asked.

"Yep. Perfectly normal. You're you." I still had some of the notes I copied down from the circle. Maybe Itachi hadn't died the whole time, just sealed away or something. His body might have been preserved somehow. Too many questions flashed behind my mind, gears turning. The necromancer did something; I just have to figure out what. I still got the book, at least part of it. It's still half charred from the fire. Maybe I can pretend I lost it so the director of the museum won't get it back for the sake of my research. Of course than there's no way in hell I can pay my bills for tomorrow night.

Itachi merely shrugged, looking back at Mister. Mister, my cat decided to make a bed for himself on Itachi's lap. "I'm in your care than. I wish to learn more about this world I find myself in."

"Maybe tomorrow," I got up frustrated from my couch. "You sleep on the couch. You can make yourself a sandwich, and coke is in there in the Ice Box if you need a drink." I said, rubbing my eyes. I am altogether suddenly very exhausted. I noticed at the corner of my blurry eyes, Itachi frowned at the mention of coke but said nothing of it.

Murphy and her division were already alerted to the soon to be crime scene before we left the building. I didn't bother telling her I was there, or anything else for that matter.

I shook my head, walked away and closed the door behind me. I finally slumped onto my bed, letting sleep finally consume me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_McDonalds_

Forcing myself to wake up to the banging of my door five in the morning, isn`t one of my favorite things to do. In fact, I'd rather go another round of tango with a toad demon than having such an awesome dream interrupted to the insistent knocking so early in the morning. I grumbled as I got up and sat on the edge of my bed, my head still blurry from sleep. The alarm clock showed five, flat. Not five to five, or five minutes to five, just five. I groaned in despair and walked through my bedroom, and through the cluttered mess of the living room and to the steel framed door. It was madness to be awake so early in the morning. Simply madness!

The door banged again, knocking insistently. I didn't bother picking up my blasting rod, or the sword cane and my wizard staff that was lying next to the door. I doubt any demon would be polite enough to knock on the door to kill me. I wouldn't be here otherwise.

I didn`t notice the empty couch, or the occupant that should have been there. I didn't notice the red eyes peering onto my back from the darkest corner of the living room, completely invisible to anyone without night vision goggles. Or night vision, period.

"Alright, alright I'm coming," I grumbled, unlocking the door and glared.

Micheal Carpenter beamed at me, his white teeth pearly blinding my eyes as if the almighty himself was cursing me.

I sighed, letting him through the door. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Michael was as good as they come, and I can never stay mad at him for long. He's the honest and a righteous kind any conman would drool over, though they better watch out for his wife. He also just happens to be the fist of God, carrying a legendary holy sword and smiting evil as they come. The duffel bag hung around his shoulder, the pommel of the blade Amoracchius stuck out on the end through the zipper was to be any indication. Vampires and any other nasty evil don't tend to last very long against him.

"I've got some work for you." I closed the door behind him. Michael turned to face me, "It's important."

"Couldn't this have waited in the morning?" I grumbled, crossing my arms. "And can't you do anything?"

"I would but, another calls to me in time of my need. It's important, and she'll even pay you."

I can tell Michael disapproved. Fighting evil shouldn't be paid, but my stomach ain't gonna feed itself, and extra work would be nice. Hey, it's nice to indulge on nice things once in a while. Rolling my eyes, I gestured him to sit down on the couch.

Michael and I have only just recently been working together since the sudden bout of ghost attacks a month ago. The pay's been great, and working with an extra hand was even better.

"So who's the client?"

"Her name is Monica Gainsworth." Michael took out an envelope and handed it to me. "Her brother's been taken, and she might be next."

Inside the envelope held a note to her address, and her brother's with a stack of hundred dollar bills inside. I nearly dropped it in shock, my eyebrows shot up. "Oh hell!"

"Harry, you're drooling." Michael deadpanned. "And stop swearing. You know I do not like that."

"I'm not drooling!" I wasn't drooling. "She wants me to find her brother? Can't she go to the police?"

"She tried, and they're having even less success. That's why she called me for help." Michael replied, staring right into my eyes. I stared back. He's another I soul gazed with, so there wasn't any need for avoiding eye contact. "She's a very dear friend of mine, Harry. And Charity's as well."

"So you recommended her, me?"

"You're specialty is finding people. And there's more," Michael paused for a moment, "She says she might have been followed for the last couple of days, and not by anything normal. Her suspicions were confirmed when her brother said the same thing…"

"Let me guess, he was kidnapped the next day?"

"Unfortunately, Harry." Michael nodded. "She's at a safe house at the moment." He handed me another note. "The address is here. She'll be expecting you…"

Michael's eyes narrowed and aimed it behind me. I frowned, following his sharp gaze to find Itachi sitting on the arm chair. Holy cow batman! I didn't even notice him sitting there the entire time Michael and I talked.

As for Itachi, he looked completely relaxed, his eyes closed and feet propped straight against the floor with his back slouched a little against the chair. Every few seconds he would take a sip from the cup, as if he was savoring the taste. He looked completely normal. I tried not to twitch, I really, really tried.

"Oh yeah, he's a…uh, friend," I replied hurriedly, turning back to my other friend. "He's assisting me in a case at the moment, sort of..."

"Hello," Michael smiled, nodding to him. He looked disturbed for some reason, his eyes now focused solely on Itachi.

Itachi nodded, his darker than black eyes staring right back at Michael.

"Right well, I better get back," Michael got up, but before turning to leave through the door he paused. "This isn't a normal case, Harry. Good luck."

I nodded, and shut the door behind him.

Itachi continue to drink from his tea, unmoving.

"What the hell am I going to do with you?" I mumbled, scratching my head in frustration.

It was several hours later I found myself and Itachi splurging in Mcdonalds, staying well away from the cashiers. The last thing I needed was the machines blowing up on me, so I sat down and showed how the currency works to Itachi. He picked it up instantly, and went to order the exactly what I asked him to buy. He was quick on the uptake, I`d give him that.

It was Tuesday morning, the half burnt book, extremely priceless lay next to me on the table. It was half past eight and already morning business was booming. Young and old, office workers and school kids, college students and even a few elderly waited in line for morning breakfast and coffee.

I tried not to snigger. Despite the completely devoid presence on his features he plastered on his face, the raven haired still looked awkward waiting in line, and the attention he was getting from the giggling teenage girls made him look even more pronounced in the heavy crowd. The worn out shirt, the years old pair of shoes and the jogger's pants I let him borrow were couple of extra sizes too large. But somehow he made it seem more stylish.

Itachi made it back through the throngs of the small crowd with a tray filled with food. There was a little bit of a pair of everything, from fries to burgers and a medium coffee for the both of us. I took out my burger, unwrapped It carefully and bit right into it. I nearly groaned in delight as I savored the taste of meaty goodness. Meat, double bacon with extra cheese and sauce all neatly held together under the buns.

I could tell Itachi liked it too when he bit into his own burger. He managed to finish it within the next two minutes later and tried out the fries. There still wasn't any reaction, not even a flicker of emotion. You`d think you`d get some kind of a reaction. Yep, he`s a robot. Maybe I should introduce him to Pizza.

I took another bite into my burger while my thoughts drifted back to Susan. She's going to come by and take Itachi off my hands after a little bit of an introduction. And as a favor for me, I asked her to do some shopping with Itachi later today while I took care of some business. It was a sudden request to spring up on her so easily in the morning, I admit. But she agreed anyway and to return the favor I should pay for dinner tonight. A dinner at a fancy restaurant with Susan would be the my highlight of the week.

And speaking of Susan…

"Hey, Harry!" I grinned up at her. Susan leaned down to give me a quick peck to the cheeks. "You look cleaned up."

I decided to let that comment fly. "You sure you okay with this?"

"Don't be silly. I'd love to help." Susan turned to face Itachi, her hand held out for a handshake. "And this must be Itachi."

Susan Rodriguez, now there was a beauty if I ever saw one. She wore a crisp grey business suit and pants that hugged tightly around her body like a second skin. It showed her curves just at the right places, and her dark skin only made her look that much more eye dropping gorgeous. I tried really hard not to stare too long at her ass when she turned to meet Itachi.

Susan was a writer of the paranormal magazine, reporting in all the strange happenings within and around the city. If something happened, Susan would come to me to find the answers. She had this determined streak, an obsession of sorts to make the city of Chicago see the hidden underworld just there barely beneath the surface. And it's that determination of hers that led her to the front door of my office. I am after all the only legit professional wizard in the city.

I turned back to find Itachi standing up and gently took her hands in a firm handshake. "You must be Susan." He said, just a hint of a smile and nodded. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Why Harry, I didn't realize your friend was so nice!" She stated, her smile becoming that much wider. "Or that he was such a stud!"

Did she just gush? She didn't gush. There's no way in hell she gushed. Stars and Stones! Who uses the word gush anymore, anyway? I angrily bit into my burger again, hiding my scowl. Now I'm feeling just a little bit hesitant to leave the pretty boy with Susan all day. I'd feel much better if he was stuck in my subbasement and introduce him to Bob instead. An entire day with a horny talking skull could drive anyone insane.

"And you, Ms. Rodriguez"

I can feel my right eye twitching. He was only being nice, I reminded myself.

"Well, as for our dinner date," Susan turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "I'll pick you up later tonight for dinner at ten?"

"Yea, I'll be at my place by nine by the time I'm home." I nodded, before turning to Itachi. "Don't give her any trouble, Itachi."

She crinkled her nose at my outfit; at least the one Itachi was wearing. "And hopefully we'll get you out of those awful clothes."

"Hey!" I exclaimed rather loudly. "I'm not that bad!"

"So, Harry. I hear there's been a weird murder last night," Susan suddenly asked. "Care to comment?"

"Nothing for you to know much about," I said, my smile slowly widening. "But maybe tonight with the right negotiation tactics, I might let something slip out or two."

"We'll see about that," Susan replied, smiling before turning back to Itachi. "Well, come on Itachi. The car's just out front."

Susan turned and walked away, Itachi following on her strides.

"Protect her. Make sure nothing happens to her, you got me?" I all but demanded when Itachi passed me. My voice was low enough that Susan couldn't hear me.

Itachi slowed mid stride, looking at my eyes for a moment before nodding. "She'll be safe." And he left.

I didn't bother to make sure he was sincere. He meant it. It doesn`t mean I trust him fully, I`d be a fool.

It was a couple of hours later I find myself sipping the last drips of my now cold coffee before throwing it into the trash. The director of the museum was less than pleased about the book, and I was the unfortunate one close by to pat him on the back while he cried his heart out.

I also asked for the payment afterwards, and I felt like a jerk pocketing the tear stained cheque. Yep. That's me, a total jerk. It took another hour driving deeper into the city, and the traffic wasn't worse than usual on a Tuesday morning.

The address finally led me to one of those really nice and ritzy hotel buildings. The kind you have to pay hundreds of dollars just for a night. The kind the reception paid extra close attention to my shaggy appearance when I entered.

I didn't even bother looking her, and continued through the hall and to the right, up the stairs a few flight up stairs and rapped on the door for my next client.

The door opened slightly ajar after the second knock, just enough for me to see her nose and eyes. I instinctively avoided eye contact and looked at the tip of her nose. I can tell she was scared. It doesn`t take a genius to figure out she`s fearful of something, and being extremely cautious about it.

"Monica Gainsworth?" I asked, looking down at the note again. "Michael Carpenter sent me."

"Harry Dresden," She had a smooth voice, and I can tell she's hiding her fear behind it. "The wizard, right?"

"That's me." I nodded. "You mind if I come in?"

Monica stared at me for a few seconds, as if to try and figure me out behind her grey eyes. She finally opened the door all the way, letting me through. Monica was probably about twenty years old, maybe older. She wore tight fitted jeans that made her legs look longer than it was possible, and a white sweater she hugged around to herself to bring in some warmth to her pale skin. She reminds me of one of Billy and his gang of werewolves, a kind of bookish type but with enough attraction to make any hormonal boys head spin.

"Michael told me you can help. And I trust Michael's word, so I trust you," She led her way through and I had to appreciate the décor as I half listened. She turned to face me, hey eyes piercing and sharp. "I have to. Can you help me?"

"Usually I'd tell you to go to the police for missing's persons. But…" Harry hesitated for a moment. "Listen, I'll help as much as I can. If this turns out to be my area of expertise, I'd do my best. If not, I'll return your money." It was almost painful to say that, but I managed to hide it behind a smile.

Monica visibly relaxed, as if the entire world was lifted from her shoulders. Her shoulder sagged and her pretense of anything polite to company of strangers left like the wind. I noticed a silver cross hung around her neck, hidden beneath her sweater. It was a tiny little thing, and glittered nicely against the light of the room. The room itself is spacy, beautiful and grand. It was at least as big as my entire living room and kitchen and my bathroom put together. Safe house my butt. If this is her safe house, I'd love to see what her home looked like.

"So what can you tell me before the kidnapping? Any details you might remember that tipped you off." I took out a notepad and a pencil.

"It was the same as any other day, just the usual." Monica thought it over, mulling her words carefully. "I don't notice many things, Mr. Dresden. But I did notice the same car throughout the week, always a street away whenever I get my morning coffee or whenever I get off from work. I don`t pretend to notice but it`s always there."

"So what makes you think they kidnapped your brother?"

"John called me a day before he disappeared. He mentioned a car he thought was following him. I didn't say anything, just told him he was being silly," Monica's eyes glistened, her lips trembling slightly.

Uh oh.

"And he was kidnapped the next day."

"Yes."

"Can you remember what kind of car it was?"

"I did better than that, Mr. Dresden," She took a stack of photos from the desk drawer and handed them to me. "These are the photos I hired someone to take."

I was impressed. Monica was resourceful and knew how to look out for herself. Murphy would have loved her.

The photos were of an old Chevy, probably made in the 80s. It was barely worse than my buggy. Shuffling through the next photo, the license plates can be shown on the back of the car. It was clear and easy to read the numbers and letters. I can tell the photographer zoomed in on the licence plates specifically. The rest of the photos tried to capture the occupants inside, but it was too dark to see much.

"Did you give this to the police?"

"Yeah, and they said they'd look into it. They still think my brother wasn't kidnapped."

I frowned, shuffling through the photos before taking the picture with the license plate. "You mind if I take this?"

"Go ahead," Monica replied.

"Listen, Monica. I have the address and the key to your brother's place Michael gave me. Would you mind if I go in there and check it out? I also need something very personal from him. Something he holds really close to him. Something like a memento, or even just a piece of his hair or anything that has a connection to him."

Monica turned her head, wiping the little tears from her eyes and thought it over. She turned back to look at me, and I made sure to avoid her eyes. "There is. There's his engagement ring in his living room. He never sold it after his fiancé left him. He still loved her…."

See, I have this outdated chauvinistic attitude towards women. Not in the men are better than women kind of way, but in the 'I can't resist women's pleading teary eyed look that's bound to get me in trouble' kind or open doors for them. But most of the time it ends with former, it's gotten me into trouble before and I doubt it's going to stop now. Oh hell…

"I promise I'll look into it," I said, pocketing the photo in my right pocket jacket. "The second I find anything you'd be the first to know. And if there's anything else…"

Monica didn't say much afterwards and she numbly closed the door behind me once I'm out the door. It doesn't take a great detective to tell she was scared, despite the strong front she was holding up.


End file.
